


No Bearing in the Real World

by Resoan



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, F/M, Post-Canon, Post-Dragon Age: Inquisition, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-09
Updated: 2015-09-09
Packaged: 2018-04-19 23:41:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4765340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Resoan/pseuds/Resoan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Velahari has been searching for Solas, and only through sheer luck and willpower is she able to find traces of his magic that lead to him - theirs is not a happy reunion, however.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Bearing in the Real World

The trail had not been an easy one to follow.

Solas was careful, more paranoid about exposure than even Leliana and her secrets, but Velahari had begun to notice. Every mage in Thedas carried with them a signature of sorts, a lingering mark of their power in the area. And while it was nigh on impossible to detect in the physical realm, sleeping allowed her to explore and find it within the Fade. The irony was not lost on her: she was only equipped to find Solas because of him and his direction when they’d worked together to further her own magical skills.

It took time, though. The Inquisitor often found herself more frustrated than anything, searching for something so elusive she oftentimes wondered if her endeavor had been the product of a fevered mind and little sense. More than once she’d been tempted to give up the chase and return to Skyhold where familiar, if murky, politics awaited her. Her companions seemed as vexed and irritated by the lack of success as Velahari, and just when it seemed as bleak and unfruitful, she  _found_ it: the remnants of energy, still lingering from a spell worked by Solas’s own hand – a nuance and magic she doubted she would ever,  _ever_  forget.

Some undoubtedly believed she lied: that she had talked herself into believing this farce so as to continue, but when next it led them to elven ruins and the glowing, recently-activated draws of an  _eluvian_ , doubt was promptly set aside for anxiety. Notions of following after Solas clashed with the concern of what they may find on the other side of the  _eluvian_ , and even after Velahari glanced back and towards her companions, she hesitated.

The magic of the  _eluvian_  began to fade, however, and Velahari pitched forward with a sharp sound – as though attempting to grasp something she had dropped, something that would forever shatter and never once be able to be made whole again.

“Inquisitor!”

It was Cassandra’s loud voice that carried through the mirror as Velahari stumbled out onto the other side of it, the magic sealing behind her even as she caught her breath and regained her balance. As before, the _eluvian_  led to a place between – a place that veritably sizzled with magic holding it together, but it was not the Fade.

Velahari’s lips parted to call for Solas, though even as she glanced around the immediate area, she saw little: shifting, visible puffs of air, currents that tugged and pulled at the magic within her, and even a few, brief phantasms of elves in the shifting smoke. It was not unlike a magic sphere she’d heard some mention in regard to Rivaini seers who made their fortune pretending, but perhaps there was some truth to the notion after all.

Her heart hammered within her chest, ill-at-ease, and despite seeing no paths or roads, she made her way forward: lured by the lingering, ambient magic Solas had used to cross the area. If she listened hard enough, she could even still hear the wisps on the other side of the Veil murmuring excitedly, calling out to Pride to give them purpose.

“Solas?”

Velahari’s voice echoed as though in a cavern: sliding against invisible walls and sounding hollow even to her own ears. She received no answer. She called again, twice more even. Demons and spirits both pressed at the Veil, calling to her: offering power, desire,  _anything_  if she would but consent, but the  _only_ thing she desired was the reason she was currently in this place. A place between worlds.

Eventually, the space opened into a large, finite area, though what once had been there was now gone. Dark shadows still lingered where a fake sun might have shone down, but what was more disconcerting was the very real trail of blood she could faintly make out – only becoming more vividly red the closer she drew.

Her expression twisted, pained and yearning and  _terrified_  morphed into a single, shuddering sob, and her steps quickened with the beat of her heart. She did not have to continue for long.

The pools of glistening scarlet became closer together until she finally came across the body: mangled and marred, struggling to breathe, and stretched out upon the likeness of the ground, a hand curling delicately over a wound far too big to fit.

What little healing magic Velahari had learned was already curling warmly in her hand, but even as she settled on her knees at his side, her hand skimming over top of his own, she knew.

She held back the tears as best she could, even as Solas groaned a quiet, pained sound, but even then, he managed to crack open his eyes and catch her wild gaze with his own. His were somber, resigned perhaps, but for the briefest moment, Velahari could see surprise and warmth settle there as well.

His lips parted, trembling and dry, but even as he attempted to speak, Velahari shook her head, her continued attempt at healing a mere, fumbling one considering how very emotionally compromised she currently was.

Eventually, his hand slipped into hers as he gently rocked his head from side to side.

 _Don’t_.  _It’s too late._

She inhaled sharply then, her eyes darting back to Solas’. Frenzy and pain drove her, the whispers of the demons only louder echoes in her ears, but something in Solas’ expression calmed her. His death was inevitable, and to see her like this before he would pass…it would be the final time he saw her, and to part like this was not what he’d wanted.

His eyes seemed to convey such a message, and though Velahari breathed in a deep, shuddering breath, it did not keep the tears away. Her hand trembled as it lifted to his brow, smoothing across the skin above his eyes, and she choked back a sob when his eyes closed slowly and he allowed his head to angle closer to her.

It was first apparent when his grip on her hand loosened and his hand fell, the tension in his neck falling slack soon thereafter. Her fingers slid slowly and gently from between his own, slick and red from the blood, but even then, she forced herself to smile amid the tears. Balancing a hand at her side, Velahari leaned forward to press a kiss to his forehead, gentle and heartfelt and heart _broken_. Her lips mouthed a silent  _I love you_  there before she pulled back, though it was then that the true despair and heart-rending cries began to fill the otherwise empty void.

The spirits and demons hovering just beyond the Veil watched curiously, enviously, and when Velahari threw back her head and shrieked, it seemed to shake the fabric of their reality, with its sorrow and power.

Pride and Desire, Envy and Sloth: all the demons gathered and watched, but it was Wisdom who finally spoke.

“At least he did not die alone.”


End file.
